


I Taste You All Over My Teeth

by missanomalous



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missanomalous/pseuds/missanomalous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You could eat me.” <i>Jesus, Laura.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I Taste You All Over My Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> Relative spoilers for [Episode 23](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QaMVOjA9sWc&list=PLbvYWjKFvS5rX2yv-k5AJ8oxPoZ9zHcpe&index=23).

They've settled into tedium again, waiting for the next big thing that will break them from these quiet moments. The fighting has all but petered out between them, leaving them to the cool neutrality they had managed well enough for so long, the deeper understanding seeming to somehow fuel the distrust between one another and bring them closer at the same time. Or maybe it was just the hurt feelings that were holding them back. Somehow, the allure of having a vampire for a roommate has lost most of its intrigue, leaving the roommates with little having changed when all is said and done. But Laura understands her mysterious, brooding dormmate a little more, not just because her species has been revealed but because she provided a door through the thick walls she’s built up. Even if it was promptly slammed shut the day after.

 

Which had been her own doing, to be fair. Laura is well aware (at least  _now_  she is) that Carmilla’s motives were pure the night of their almost-date. Well, pure probably isn’t a good word but Laura isn’t very good with words and can’t think of another way to describe Carmilla not having the intentions of draining her dry. Which she probably feels like doing now.

 

Her eyes slide over to her roommate for the umpteenth time that evening, critically scanning the pallid colour of her skin. Whatever her supplier of blood had been before has been cut off, which is all the information Laura has been able to gather, no matter how hard she prods for more. She suspects that it has something to do with the Dean and her general displeasure for Laura, but getting information from Carmilla is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. It’s only been about two days by Laura’s count, but obviously being up and mobile rather than duct taped to a chair has been making the time more noticeable than Carmilla’s last dry spell.

 

Reaching up, the brunette brushes her fingers over the spot where bite marks remain on her skin, not having looked in the last few days to check their status. “You must be starving,” she blurts unexpectedly.

 

Carmilla raises an eyebrow but doesn’t look up from her reading material, a thick bound book titled  _The Incoherence of the Incoherence_  (because,  _god_ , she really is such a philosophy major), turning the page before she replies curtly, “Certainly not the longest I’ve gone without a snack, baby doll.”

 

Laura winces as she feels a stab of guilt, remembering the sight of the other girl’s convulsing body brought on by Laura’s own hands. Her fingers drops from her neck as she sits up straight on her bed, her legs thrown over the side. “I know, but you’ve been… busy and everything, it’s gotta be, like, draining–”

 

“Phrasing, sweetheart. I imagine ‘draining’ must be a trigger word for the Jolly Ginger Giant, and I would rather not have her bursting in here She-Hulk style when I’m–”

 

“Thirsty?”

 

“Reading.”

 

Laura’s hand rises once more, this time to tug on the ends of her hair, critically looking out for any split ends as Carmilla remains absorbed in her book. TV has somewhat romanticized the whole vampire bite thing – it always seems to lead to foreplay on  _The Vampire Diaries_  or  _True Blood_ , like some sort of orgasmic release. Of course, that could be because it literally is used as foreplay in so many instances on both shows. But it had  _hurt_. It ached like… well, like someone had bit her.

 

Still, her immediate reaction in that moment had been less about the shock of the bite than the embarrassing response her body had given the moment Carmilla jumped at her. The first brush of her red lips against Laura’s neck hadn’t incited fear – quite the opposite. Her breath had caught in her throat rather than scream out for help, her hands had flown around Carmilla’s arms in place of pushing her away, and her hips had jerked up against the ones above them instead of doing… whatever her hips should have been doing when a vampire she had spent more than a week starving went for her neck.

 

“You could eat me.”  _Jesus, Laura_. “I mean… you know what I mean, I didn’t... “ She clears her throat and tries again, playing with the bat wing charm around her wrist in lieu of looking at Carmilla until her cheeks cool. “If you were… You’re hungry and I’m an adequate blood bank.”

 

Carmilla’s dark eyes meet hers for a moment before they stubbornly return to the pages in front of them as she shifts against the pillows behind her. “You and your idiots are getting lazy with your traps, you know. This is particularly uninspired, even for you.”

 

“It’s not a trap.” Another raised eyebrow is her only reply, so Laura pushes off her mattress and approaches Carmilla’s, cautiously watching the girl as she does. Things are far from great between them, but they were only good for such a short while that Laura isn’t sure what defined that time. So she feels now is as good a night as night as any to start to bridge the gap between them again. “You’re no good to me in this state anyway. How are you supposed to do anything when a toddler could take you?”

 

Carmilla glares at her over the edge of the book but Laura sees her eyes slip to stare pointedly at her neck, leaving the very mortal girl unconsciously hunching up her shoulders. “You’re clearly gungho.”

 

“Well, I’m sorry, but offering myself as a snack does not mean I want to be devoured.” Carmilla’s lip twitches in response and Laura immediately feels like smacking herself as she instead focuses on taking her bracelet off. “I’m trying extend an olive branch here.”

 

Black-tipped fingers curl around the edge of her book, nails scratching against the cover. “Why?”

 

“Because we’re… we’re stuck together now, so we might as well make the best of it. And if I’m gonna ask you to protect me from your supernatural soap opera mother, then it seems like… the least I can do. It’s not like it’s asking a lot of me, I’m pretty adept at sitting still and my heart seems to know what it’s doing when it comes to–”

 

“If I agree, will you stop talking?”

 

“Maybe?”

 

Carmilla rolls her eyes and glances back at the door to their room, her tongue pushing against the inside of her lips. “Your friends won’t like it, they’re already terrified of me. I’m surprised they don’t make you sleep with an armed guard next to your bed at night – I would have thought that Big Red would have volunteered for that job.”

 

“I won’t tell them,” Laura stresses, trying to convey as much sincerity as she can to a creature of pure sarcasm. “We’re stuck whether we like it or not and there’s not much I can do when it comes to defending myself against a member of your dysfunctional, cross-generation family.” She clears her throat and addresses her lap for a moment. “And I… I remember what happened last time and I just can’t deal with… seeing you like that, okay? Not again. It just… it freaked me out.”

 

The distrust still radiates from the raven-haired girl, but she sets her book down and turns to mirror Laura’s position on the edge of her bed, running her hands down the black pants she’s donned in. “I feel like crap. And I would… very much appreciate you doing this for me.” Her deep brown eyes fall on Laura’s fidgeting hands. “Even if your motives are more self-serving than you’re making them out to be.”

 

She scoffs in return and reconsiders her offer for a moment. But it passes and Laura finds herself pulling her hair over her shoulder as she stares straight ahead. In her periphery she sees Carmilla’s head turn to watch her, feels her shift on the mattress next to her until their hips are touching. She leans in and the brunette remains stock-still until she feels the first brush of the other girl’s hair against her arm. “Wait!” The vampire’s neck snaps back at the sudden outburst and Laura forces out a laugh at her own stupidity. “I just… I’ve already got the marks on the other side and everything… so…”

 

Carmilla lets out a breath and glances away, apparently reconsidering the situation herself, but stands from the bed to walk around to Laura’s other side and resume her position. When she reaches forward to move her hair to the side, the technically older student jumps again. Not because it’s a vampire that’s touching her, but because it’s  _Carmilla_. The girl in question gives another huff and moves to stand, mumbling something about what a mistake this is.

 

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – just sit  _down_ ,” she insists, tugging on Carmilla’s shirt to pull her back to the mattress when she tries to step away. They don’t actually touch all that often and it’s a little odd every time she feels Carmilla’s cool skin against her own, even now when her fingertips are just barely brushing against her back. The centuries-old girl relents but remains staring forward, forcing Laura to turn herself to face her more. “I’m not exactly used to this.”

 

“Well, I didn’t ask–”

 

“I know. Just… shut up and bite me already before you keel over.” She sits up straight, trying to feign a confidence she’s never had. But it earns her a barely suppressed smirk coupled with another eye roll from Carmilla anyway, before her expression sobers. She reaches over again, more cautiously than before as if she’s waiting for Laura to pull away once more. But Laura remains in place, swallowing thickly when chilled fingers brush against her neck to move her hair aside. She’s giving Laura plenty of opportunity to tell her to stop, but her mouth remains stubbornly shut as she stares straight ahead, closing her eyes when Carmilla leans in.

 

And it really does hurt – being bitten, that is. Once again the only thing that stops her squeak of pain is the fact that it’s Carmilla’s mouth attached to her neck. At the first break of Laura’s skin, she feels warmth rushing out, but any ache she should be focusing on takes second place to the small “ _Unnh_ ” the dark-haired girl gives. Was that a moan? Sometimes she watches shows with the closed captioning on and they pretty much label any semi-erotic noise people make as a moan, even just like heavy breathing and stuff, so she doesn’t really know what the distinction is. Does “unnh” fit the classification?

 

At least she can safely say that it’s a favourable noise and revel in the immediate result of Carmilla’s body all but melting against hers. One of her cool hands slides up to flatten over the back of her head, smoothing out her hair and keeping her in place, while the other curls around the other side of Laura’s neck. At the touch, Laura lets out a breath she doesn’t realize she has been holding in while her left hand flies up to Carmilla’s hip, bunching the fabric of her shirt the same way her right fist is tangling in Betty’s duvet, staring at her own bed across the room.

 

Carmilla’s lips are smooth and warm, and every time Laura feels her tongue brush against her skin her jaw drops a little, a thankfully silent cry because she knows if there was any volume the only thing that would be heard would be a Muppet-like sound that would alert any dog within a five mile radius. Even though her brain remains on high alert, Laura feels herself begin to relax, her eyes starting to droop and her breathing growing slow and languid. She briefly wonders how much time has passed and how much of her blood has been drained, because everything feels like it’s slowed down as the immortal girl continues to try to press closer to her neck.

 

Laura lets out her first and only sound – a gasp that sounds distinctly human, thankfully – when she feels a small stream of blood slip past the vampire’s greedy lips, resulting in a hot tongue slithering down to follow. Her brain goes into overdrive and her eyes go wide as she watches Carmilla pull back, the back of her hand held to her red lips while giving off a look that's, god help her,  _bashful_  of all things. An expression that Laura is surely mirroring as she vaguely registers the feeling of a tissue being pressed to her neck.

 

“You alright, cutie?”

 

How dare her voice sound so throaty and low? Laura lets out an unexpected laugh, her fallback defense mechanism against so many problems in life, and puts on an expression that she means to be relaxed but undoubtedly comes off as manic. “I’m  _great!_ ” She’s never wanted to hit herself with her spatula more than she does in this moment. “I mean… you know, I’m just… I’m fine.”

 

“Because you seem a little on edge.” Laura follows Carmilla’s dark eyes as they glance down at the hand on her hip, the one that has pale pink fingertips digging into Carmilla's skin through her shirt.

 

“Oh. Sorry.” It takes an incredible amount of effort, but Laura regains control of her left hand and presses it flat against the bedspread underneath them. “I’m fine, really. Still just… getting used to having my blood sucked. Which isn’t a phrase I ever imagined I’d have to say…”

 

Carmilla lets out a small laugh, her quite literally blood red tongue jutting out to swipe against her lips, leaving Laura’s eyebrows to snap up and follow the motion with keen interest. This goes unnoticed by Carmilla, who’s leaning forward to Laura’s neck once more, lifting the tissue she holds to look at the marks underneath.

 

“Do I taste good?” Laura asks, wincing at her own words once again and clearing her throat when she watches the corner of Carmilla’s mouth lift in tandem with an eyebrow. “I mean… I don’t know if the different blood types taste unique or something – not that I even  _know_  what my blood type is. I should probably know that. But, like… do you… have some sort of people preference or something?”

 

“Your blood tastes sweet,” Carmilla clarifies after a moment, folding the tissue before pressing a clean side back against Laura’s neck. “Almost overwhelmingly so. You might wanna see a doctor about that, Miss Harker.”

 

“ _Do not_  start with the Mina Harker.”

 

Another laugh, louder than before as Carmilla reaches for Laura’s hand to bring it up and hold the Kleenex. “I can give you something – for the scarring. It’d be a shame to mar that pretty skin of yours.”

 

“I’d… appreciate that,” Laura replies, the tips of her fingers as white as the tissue they’re pressing against due to her unrelenting pressure. She can’t feel the ache from the puncture wounds in her neck, it’s probably there somewhere under the adrenaline that’s still coursing through her because of how close Carmilla is. And possibly due to some mild lightheadedness as a result of acute blood loss. “A lot. My dad will probably think it’s a tattoo or something…”

 

“You’d look good with some ink. A little more badass.” Her shoulder bumps against Laura’s and she has to blink at the realization that they’ve fallen back into one of those quiet moments they share before some force interrupts them. “Barbed wire around the bicep, Mike Tyson face tattoo…”

 

Laura’s face splits into a grin that hurts her cheeks, but she can’t help it. Flirty Carmilla is just far too endearing and Laura can’t deny that she prefers this side to her roommate more than any other. Well, maybe not as much as Carmilla in those genuine, brutally honest moments that provide sincere insight into her soul. But Laura is only adept at dealing with so much emotion at one time, so she’s okay with spacing those out. “I was thinking of a big colourful dragon across my chest. Make flashing people like an art statement.”

 

Carmilla looks down at her lap, one leg crossing over the other and her smile just as wide as Laura’s. Her cheeks look flushed and healthy again, her eyes clear and focused once more. She reaches for the bat wing charm that’s next to Laura’s hip and motions for her to lower her arm and hold the tissue with her other hand. Once she has it securely around Laura’s wrist she pauses for a moment, her thumb resting against the thin green vein at her pulse point. Carmilla seems as if she’s about to say something, looking up to meet Laura’s gaze and holding it.

 

And then the  _Star Wars_  theme begins blasting from the other side of the room, trilling out of the tiny speakers of Laura’s phone, and both of the girls seem to take a moment to appreciate another interruption to whatever keeps bubbling up between them. At least turning it into an inside joke can provide some solidarity between them when they’ve spent most of their relationship deceiving and guarded from one another.

 

“Thank you,” Carmilla says after a moment, dropping Laura’s wrist to the mattress, but pulling her hands away slowly. She looks beyond her shoulder at the orange glow that the sun cast and gives a small laugh as the song continues on in the background, now unnoticed by the two. “I suppose I can start being a productive member of society again.”

 

“Were you ever a productive member of society?”

 

She smirks in response and reaches up to Laura’s neck, swiping her thumb over a smear of blood and popping it into her mouth as she stands from the bed. “Thanks for the top-off, buttercup. I guess I owe you one.”

 

“I guess you do.” It feels like the most badass thing she’s ever said, and Carmilla supports this by swiveling on the spot and raising her eyebrow as she smiles around her thumb, but Laura can’t help but feel that effect is somewhat ruined by the bunnies on her pajama bottoms. God, she hates laundry day.

 

“Well, you know where I live when you want to call in that favour.” She resumes her path towards the exit, hanging by the doorjamb briefly to look back and drawl out, “Later.”

 

This has probably been the weirdest Monday night Laura can ever remember, and now that she’s not surrounded by Carmilla’s scent and the overwhelming power of seduction eyes, the bite mark is starting to  _hurt._  Making this also one of the sorest Monday nights in recent history, barring a few particularly rough ones during a certain unpleasant time of the month. Laura stands from Carmilla’s bed and drops the tissue in the wastebasket, sighing as she looks into the camera to check the wound. A little less agitated than the last encounter, so she supposes there’s something to be said for taking their time.

 

Laura looks at the light on the camera and sinks into her chair, knowing full well that she can’t post this video without receiving the third degree from Danny. But, god, it seems like such a huge waste for everyone else who has been checking up on her project. She stops the recording at the same time her phone beeps to alert her that she has a voicemail, but Laura pauses as she looks at the saved file. It  _does_  seem unfair, she thinks, to not show every side of their weird little adventure, and this has her pausing as she drags it near the trash. She’s just going to have to sit down with Danny and explain that it was a necessary thing to do, that’s all. And stand her ground and tell Danny that she would just have to deal with it. And maybe put on some makeup and wear something cute to work in her favour.

 

Laura looks at the file once more and drags it to her video folder, promising herself that she’s going to post it the minute she can talk to Danny and warn her about what’s on it. She’s definitely editing out that gasp though.


End file.
